I am
by avorialair
Summary: The Doctor is all Rose has. He’s too blind and too stupid to admit he feels the same way. That is, until Jack says something worthwhile for a change, and he begins to wonder... [rest of the summary inside]. Songfic.


_**Summary**: The Doctor is all Rose has. He's both too blind and too stupid to admit he feels the same way. That is, until Jack says something worthwhile for a change, and he begins to wonder about the possibility of Rose feeling for him what she shouldn't feel. This is about as close as the Doctor and Rose should ever come to giving into their own feelings. Rated for language, mostly._

_**Story Type**: Songfic. But extra long, because it _is_ a story. And my ideas just didn't know when to stop.  
_

_**Characters**: Rose Tyler, The Doctor (Ninth), Jack Harkness._

_**Rating**: T, mostly for language._

_**Words**: 9865 (sorry about that – my fingers got a little carried away!)_

_**Genre**: Angst, Romance. Nothing like an angsty short story whilst you're writing another fic._

_**Spoilers**: Lots for the BBC Doctor Who Novel 'The Stealer of Dreams' (again, which I don't own. None of those ideas), and a few minor ones for "Father's Day" and "The Empty Child/The Doctor Dances"._

_**Setting**: Between "Boom Town" and "Bad Wolf", after they all come back from that planet with no name. Anti-Fiction, I guess. I thought it was Earth, but I may have been wrong. The book wasn't exactly clear. Anyway, it's all TARDIS based._

_**Disclaimer**: The song 'I am' is written and performed by Bon Jovi. Nothing to do with me. I just heard the song it sparked off this little mini-story in my head. Likewise, Doctor Who is nothing of mine. All the BBC's creation and ownership. Believe me, it's something I cry about on a daily basis._

_**A/N: **This was a story that followed me around like a fly, buzzing at me incessantly, and bothered me ever since I heard the song. I couldn't get it out of my head. So I sat down and wrote it. It just seemed to fit so perfectly for how the Doctor and Rose are with each other, and though I wanted to play on their feelings a little bit, I don't want to go too far into it. Because that's just not the sort of relationship they have. Oh, and, I'm no good at American slang (being of British blood and culture :D), so I apologise if Jack is a little OOC._

**-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------**

**How you spend your minutes are what matters,**

**All tomorrows come from yesterdays;**

**--------- **

Rose sat alone in her bedroom on the TARDIS, her thoughts pounding in her head like the pounding of a million tiny footsteps. One footstep would have been all right. But a thousand thousand all beating around her head at once, in one unanimous throng of rhythm, was almost too much to bear. How long had she been with the Doctor now? A week? A month? A year? Okay, probably more than a month, but probably less than a year. It was impossible to tell. When he was around, time lost all meaning. It just sort of... merged together, like it meant nothing. Seconds into minutes, minutes into hours; that sort of thing. But all that mattered was that she was with him. Saving him. Being with him, that's what she wanted. She didn't care about time, or planets, or saving people. Obviously she did when she was there, when she was thrown into battle like a rag doll, and she loved every exhilarating breath and every dangerous challenge. But when she was alone, like this, and it was just the two of them (almost), all she wanted was him.

They'd only recently come back from the planet where fiction had been outlawed. It hadn't even had a name. Different names for different people, Rose had realised. But the Doctor had been fantastic. Saved the lives of everyone and all the while figured out the massive puzzle. Just like he always did.

Rose had learned a lot about herself in the time she had spent there. Specifically just how much the Doctor meant to her. When she had been driven - what was it? Fantasy Crazy? - she had seen him with her, next to her, helping her and challenging her. Turned out, it was just her mind playing tricks on her. It had been a figment of her psychotic imagination. But for those few hours, he had been hers entirely. Made of her, _for_ her and yet was still his same, cocky self. He'd been touched when he'd found out, she supposed. Or was he? All he'd done was congratulate her on being smart, and quick, and clever enough to create an almost-Doctor-like apparition. She couldn't tell him how much she'd thought he was real, how much she relied on him. How much she loved him. No, it was all too much to think about.

So, instead, she sat and thought nothing. Drowning out those millions of tiny footsteps purely because she did not want to face what they might mean.

**--------- **

What was he doing? Crouched underneath the TARDIS console, his head buried deeply in amongst the wires, his sonic screwdriver buzzing happily in his hand, he was kidding himself if he thought he were actually doing any work. Hiding, that's what he was doing. Hiding from his TARDIS, hiding from the world, hiding from the universe. Hiding from Rose. He was thinking, too, despite the fact that he was trying very hard not to. Thinking about time and paradoxes and how he was spending his days. He should have been out saving people. He was, but not because he wanted to. What he _wanted_ to do was talk to her, comfort her; he knew she was upset. He wasn't stupid. All that mattered was that he had an awful lot to do and not enough time to do it in. Minutes and seconds were what mattered, and getting to her in time to save her. Perhaps from herself. But he wouldn't. He would lie right here and pretend like the world didn't exist. Hiding.

"You're a bit of a sucker, really, aren't you?" he heard the American drawl from somewhere near his feet. Giving a sigh, the Doctor swung himself out.

"Can't think what you mean," he said, switching the screwdriver off and hauling himself up to sit with his elbows over his knees. Jack took the opportunity to sit alongside his companion but gave him a disbelieving look.

"Come off it, man. She's got to you."

"Who?" the Doctor questioned, forcing real wonder into his voice. He turned to the 'Captain' with a lightened expression in his arms. Jack frowned at him condescendingly.

"'Who?'" he mimicked with a laugh. "You know full well who, Doctor. And it'll just get worse if you don't do anything about it."

The Doctor shrugged and did not reply. Why should he bother? What was the point? It wasn't as if the stupid ape understood anything anyway.

"You do everything for her," Jack said softly after a while, and the mocking in his voice was gone. He was being sincere. "If she were another oh-so-fabulous Time Lord, you'd have asked to marry her weeks ago."

"That's not true," the Doctor protested weakly. Again, there was no point. No point in arguing, no point in fighting, no point in doing anything about things that can't be helped. No point in 'what if's. No point in denying it.

"Okay, maybe not _weeks_," Jack amended, with something of a grin. Then he leant in closer, his voice steady. "Knew who I was talking about, though, didn't you?"

The Doctor sighed with exasperation. "That's because there's no other 'her' on this ship," he snapped. "And stop trying to get me to admit to something I don't feel."

Jack raised an eyebrow and his mouth thinned.

"Whatever, man," he said, getting up. He stared down to the Time Lord and contemplated him for a moment. "She's not going to wait forever," he added wisely and slowly. "You may be the 'Lord of Time', last of your species, yada yada... But you've got emotions just like the rest of us, even if you pretend you're above them. And so does she. If you're not careful, you'll end up hurting her much more by doing that stupid thing you do and by being stubborn and not acting. You'll break her heart. If you're so clever, tell me this: how come you're too blind to see what's right in front of you?"

"And what's that, _Captain_?" the Doctor mocked in anger. He did not want to be having this conversation. Ever. Least of all at this sort of time, with him of all people.

The Captain frowned, and squatted down. He gave the Doctor a pitying look, then shook his head.

"You really don't see it, do you?"

The Doctor rolled his eyes, then stared directly into Jack's with warning.

"See what?"

Jack made the point of getting to his feet again. He began to wander off, into the further depths of the TARDIS rooms, but he turned at the last point and looked at the Doctor with all the seriousness in the world.

"She loves you. She's probably _in_ love with you. God knows why, you cocky bastard. But she is and it's tearing her apart because you just won't admit to the same thing."

The Doctor opened his mouth to speak, to protest, to question if it was true, to say that it was none of Jack's business and that he should have left him back on the planet of Anti-Fiction. But Jack was gone before he'd had the chance. And the Doctor was left alone, sitting on the step of the TARDIS, feeling humiliated, dejected and guilty. With a long, loud sigh, he lowered himself under the controls again. Jack was wrong. Rose didn't love him. He wasn't good enough for that.

**--------- **

**When you're feeling broken, bruised and sometimes shattered,**

**Blow out the candles on the cake, like everything's a big mistake;**

**--------- ****  
**

There was a knock at her door. Cripes, how long had she been in here? Could have been years, for all she knew. She could have aged years and years and not even noticed. Just sat here, trying very hard not to think.

"Come in," her dry voice croaked. Jack had been in to check on her three times already. It had felt like a while since his last visit, so it was no surprise that he was doing another round. He was always so full of worry; worry that she was all right, worry that she was comfortable, worry that she was happy. She'd always told him that she was fine. That she was always fine. He didn't believe her, but he'd left her alone with her thoughts nonetheless. The massacre of thoughts, which were slaughtering each other in her head until all that was left was just one. Him. _Him_. It was always him. She'd go through countless and eternal fights and struggles, coming out alive in the end - though granted, with a few war wounds - and he would always be there too, grinning at her, with her all the way. She never wanted to leave. But one day, he had told her, she would. That scared her. She didn't believe it, of course. Not now. Not when everything was so wonderful. She wouldn't just forget it all and let him go, as if the entire thing were something she would rather avoid. A mistake. He thought she thought of him as a mistake. Oh, how wrong he was.

The door slid open slowly. Rose could see Jack standing there, even though her back was turned to the door. He was there, just like before, leaning against the doorframe with a sigh held in the depths of his throat. Worried, like always.

"Hello."

Rose jumped and turned. Not Jack.

"... Hi," she said after a while, her eyes watching him. Oh God, she realised. She'd been crying. She hadn't meant to. It had just... happened, whilst she was sitting here thinking. Why did she have to do that?

"You've been crying."

That was the Doctor; always straight to the point. But his voice was tainted with worry and care, and it practically broke Rose's heart to know that she couldn't touch that. It was so soft, she would hardly have believed he was the same man who gave a winning grin, laughed an infectious laugh and had the intellect of a thousand dolphins.

"Yeah," she sniffed awkwardly, bringing a sleeve to her face to rub her eyes. Her mascara was probably already smudged anyway. And she probably looked like a mess. And the Doctor was just standing there, looking at her. He wasn't saying anything, or coming in to question her, or doing _anything_. He was just standing, as if she were an animal in a zoo.

She dried her lips with her tongue, even though it was mostly void of moisture itself.

"Sorry," the Doctor said simply, not taking his arms from her. He was leant against the doorframe, his arms folded and his eyes deep seas of blue. Raging seas. Stormy seas. All for her.

"S'not your fault," she reasoned with a weak and watery smile. Okay, lying, that was good. Very good start, Rose, she scolded herself.

His head tilted slightly, knowingly, but his eyes still never left hers. His arms unfolded and dropped slowly to his side and he took a tentative step forward.

"Isn't it?"

Now that he'd questioned her, Rose wasn't sure if she could lie to him for a second time. But she didn't want to give her answer either. So instead, she sighed and looked away. Why did him being around her make life so hard? It didn't used to. It used to be all smiles and laughing; but lately, everything was so serious and so deep that she began to wonder if they had any of that playfulness left.

Shutting her eyes to hold back the tears, she only knew the Doctor had come the rest of the way into the room when she felt a weight next to her on the bed. She opened her eyes and saw him looking at her with a frown of concern. He looked quite sweet when he was worried, really. Pity he would never know.

**--------- **

**It seems you always wait for life to happen,**

**And your last buck can't buy a lucky break;**

**--------- ****  
**

"You all right?"

Three little words with so much meaning. Was it even possible? Could she lie? Could she tell the truth? She didn't even know the answer herself, so how could she tell him so? That she was getting sick of sitting around and waiting for something that wasn't going to happen, couldn't happen, and that, quite honestly, there was no point in wishing to happen? That it hurt too much to think about all the times she'd nearly lost him, of how close she came to not being with him? That she was terrified he'd wake up one morning and want her out? Like he had with Adam? Okay, so she was different from Adam. Lots different. But he'd still done it. It wasn't _that_ different. Adam had cheated with information from the future to use it for personal gain; Rose had tried to rescue her father from death to change the course of history. It had been a few weeks ago now, and lots had happened since then, but the pain of their argument still stung at her heart like a snapped elastic band. She was always around him with baited breath, now, just in case she did something to set him off. Not how they used to be.

"I'm fine," she smiled. Another lie.

The Doctor looked at her, unmoving. He didn't believe her. She quite clearly wasn't fine. Even Jack could tell.

"You've been crying," he repeated dumbly. What else could he say? It wasn't as if he could spill his heart to her. He wasn't really sure what he was doing here. He didn't know what to do. He just hated to see Rose upset; it broke one of his hearts because she was miserable, and the other to know that he may either be the cause of that pain or not know how to fix it. Couldn't fix it. Shouldn't fix it.

"You said that," she replied with a smile. Humour, good. Humour, he could cope with.

"You don't cry when you're happy," he said factually. He was suddenly very aware of how far away they were from each other, both metaphorically and physically. He'd sat at the end of the bed and she hadn't moved.

"I'm fine."

"Liar," he grinned softly. Ever so slightly, he edged closer to her on the bed. Should he have been so pleased that she didn't get up and walk away? At least she had the strength to smile back at him.

"Nothing gets 'round you, does it?" Her voice was light, on the edge of laughter; but there was such sadness hidden in its depths that the Doctor wondered how he could have possibly missed it before. Perhaps Jack was right. Perhaps he _was_ blind.

"Not when it matters," he replied softly. Humour or no, she needed his help to get better. Better? What, was she ill? The Doctor pondered at his strange choice of word.

An awkward silence began to grow between the pair. Rose's hands were clasped firmly in her lap and she was fidgeting slightly. There was nothing she could say to him. She didn't know why he was here or what he wanted. He couldn't say anything to her, either. There was nothing to say. A large cloud was hanging over both their heads, but neither of them had the nerve to face it head on; too afraid of what it might mean. The Doctor found it a pity that he couldn't get it easy, for a change, and have the problem evaporate away from him leaving just the solution. But nothing was ever so simple. Not any more.

**--------- **

**If all we've got is us then life's worth living,**

**And if you're in, you know I'm in; I'm ready and I'm willing.**

**--------- ****  
**

He looked at her suddenly and realised she was shaking. Forgetting what was 'right' for the moment, he slid over to her and wrapped his arm around her shoulder, pulling her close to him. She didn't protest. Too weak to fight back. Instead, she let her face be buried in the depths of his shirt and let the tears fall. Crystal after crystal from a long, long line, all dissolving into the Doctor's arms. He swayed, gently, like the sea, and laid his head on hers. Maybe she didn't need much from him. Maybe all he had to do was be there for her. It hadn't been so hard before; why was he having trouble now? He knew the answer to that question, but preferred to lock it away in a file in the back of his brain with the words, 'KEEP OUT - DANGEROUS' scribbled across it in large letters.

"It's just us, isn't it Doctor?" Rose sniffed mournfully after a while. He lifted his head and reached to her chin with his hand, turning her face up to him. Her cheeks were tear-stained. Had he done that?

"There's Jack," he reminded, with some warmth. "And there will be others. We're not alone. Not any more."

"Yeah, but... they'll come and go. Won't they?"

Her voice was almost pleading.

The Doctor frowned and thought about this. He kept his arm around Rose's shoulder, as if by this simple action, he could shield her from all the hurt in the world.

"Maybe," he admitted, and his voice was tinged with sadness. She didn't know it was a sadness he was feigning. "People change. They want different things from you and me."

At this, Rose smiled. A real smile, teeth and all, despite her streaked face. He thought she was different from them. He thought - knew - that she wanted the same things as him. At least that was something.

She sniffed and straightened up, out of the Doctor's arms. Embarrassed, she started rubbing at her cheeks and eyes with her eyes.

"Sorry about all this," she said, almost laughing. "I shouldn't think so much. Gets me into trouble."

The Doctor smiled softly, the raging storm in his eyes calmed for the time being. He reached up to tuck her wild hair behind her ears, all the while, his eyes on her.

"What were you thinking?" he asked fondly.

"I..." Rose stumbled. She couldn't tell him. It would be too stupid. He'd probably laugh. Or worse, accuse her of being just another stupid ape and not being able to understand. She didn't think she'd be able to cope with that. "Nothing," she quickly amended, swallowing what felt like a lump of ice in her throat. "It's nothing. It's all right."

But the Doctor was cleverer than that.

"'Nothing' doesn't make you cry," he stated wisely with that I'm-right-you're-wrong element in his voice. "You can tell me, you know. I won't mind. In fact, I'd rather know."

What was that? A clue? Did he know how she felt but wanted to hear her say it? Or was it just coincidence?

The truth was, he just wanted to know. Wanted to know what had made her cry so that he could shout at it and chase it away as soon as possible, to have his old Rose back. He'd do anything to get that cheesy, fearless smile back on her face. Absolutely anything.

"Honestly," Rose assured with a smile. Nothing like the smile he missed so much, but it was a start. "It doesn't matter. It's just stupid stuff. Hormones playing up, probably," she laughed. Trying to get out of it with a joke. Clever girl.

The Doctor nodded, though he was far from happy. He should leave. Right now. He should get up and go. He had come in to see if she was all right - she wasn't - and if he could help - he couldn't - and now there was nothing left to do but leave. His hand was still buried in her hair, though. He could feel heat radiating off her like an open thermos. Carefully, slowly, he found himself leaning forward and kissing her delicately on her forehead. Now, why had he done that?

"If you need me," was all he said, before letting her go and getting up off the bed. He walked to the door and didn't turn around to look at her as he opened it, walked through, and closed it again behind him. If he'd chanced a look at her, he might have seen that Rose was sat, quite still, with a look of complete confusion on her face. At first glance, it might have actually looked like shocked terror. But somewhere far away, deep down from somewhere inside her soul, a little fire of happiness was beginning to dance. And, before long, it would ignite enough to make her smile the smile he had missed for so long. It was just a pity he had left the room.

**--------- **

**I am,**

**When you think that no one needs you, sees you or believes you;**

**No one's there to understand,**

**I am.**

**--------- ****  
**

He was back in the TARDIS control room again. Well, he'd tried. He had gone to see her, gone to talk to her, gone to tell her everything about how he felt. But when he'd got there, she had been crying, and now was quite obviously not the time. There never would _be_ a time, he'd realised whilst he was in there. That had been close - too close. He had been so close to spilling everything he felt for her out into the open that it was probably just as well she had been crying. He still didn't know why. But she hadn't trusted him enough to tell him, even when he'd offered. Good as told her that she could tell him anything and that he would accept it. Surely, if she felt the way about him that Jack had assumed, she would have told him then? It wasn't as if he could be any more blunt about it. He was a stupid little Time Lord, reading the signals wrong _yet again_. Not that there had been any signals. He had taken her friendship to mean something it wasn't and now, because of it, was falling through an everlasting hole. Because that's just how much of an idiot he was.

He'd kissed her, too. He couldn't believe it. His body had taken over, just for those few seconds; it was lucky that he'd only gone for her forehead. If his body had been more daring, had wanted more, he wasn't sure if he would have been able to stop himself by the time his mind kicked in. He might have done something that was so unbelievably, unthinkably, incomprehensively stupid that he would be crowned Mr stupid-stupidity-mcstupid of stupid-land on the planet stpuiditia. Great. He was Mr stupid-stupidity and Rose was finey-mcfinefine. A perfect couple, really.

Except that, she didn't want him. She was fine to sit there in her room, 'thinking'. But when it came to him, she didn't want him. Didn't need him. Nobody needed him. Not really. Even the stupid aliens he fought and the stupider people that he rescued. They didn't need him either. Let them die, what did it matter to him? He was 'The Doctor'. A traveller. Invisible to everyone. Alone. He was a myth and a legend. Or he should have been. But most didn't even know who he was, and it was better that way. And it didn't hurt, he told himself. He didn't wish for anything different. He couldn't, anyway. Wishes were just dreams and dreams were a waste of everyone's time. Hadn't the visit to their last planet told him that?

That poor woman. Kimmi, wasn't that her name? She had been living her entire life on a dream, and she couldn't even tell that it was an illusion. Perhaps the Doctor had been doing the same thing. Okay, perhaps not his entire life. But he truly was kidding himself if he thought that Rose would ever want him in the way he wanted and loved her. And he did want her. Every part of him told him so, his head, his hearts, his muscles. Sometimes, he wanted her so badly it hurt. So he didn't think about it. He put it down to the atmosphere, or something equally as pointless, and forgot what he felt, reminding himself all the while that he was a Time Lord and she was a human. He didn't have human emotions or human thoughts. And he would hurt her so badly if he pretended to her that he did. Or would he hurt himself?

He sighed with aggravation and leant against the wall of the TARDIS. Closing his eyes in frustration, he made a fist and thumped it against the wall. Hard. He held his mouth shut to stop the cry of pain escaping from his mouth, and merely listened as the noise of the echo reverberated all around the control room. And down the corridor. To Rose's room.

**--------- **

**I'll be there to be that someone,**

**When you think that no one is there to hold your hand;**

**I am.**

**--------- ****  
**

"I'm such an idiot," he said quietly to himself, shaking his stupid, thought-filled head.

"No you're not."

The voice startled him and he opened his eyes and jumped, turning on his heel to the door of the control room.

"Rose," he said softly, his voice melting like butter.

She gave him a smile and walked towards him, her trainers echoing around the quiet room.

"What are you doing here?" he asked. Stupid question; she had every right to be here. It was her home too, after all.

"Came to see you, didn't I?" she grinned, giving him a playful shove on his arm. That caught him off guard and for a moment, he stood like a stupid, hypnotised child, not quite sure if the Rose in front of him was the pretend Rose he had been dealing with for the last few days or the real Rose who he had fallen in lo- Nope. He cut that trail of thought off nice and quickly.

"I'm not gonna bite, Doctor," she laughed, grinning. That grin. It was back. But then her face became more serious and she looked at him with worry. "You all right?"

"Me? 'Course!" he beamed. Time for his own pretences now. He put up his barricade of happiness and smiled at her with his eyes. Now was not the time to fall to pieces. Not that he ever would; not now. She had saved him from that, at least.

"Can't lie to me, Doctor," she said slowly, with a wink. Still in good humour; but she'd hit the nail right on the mark, and they both knew it. "Takes one to know one, yeah?"

He studied her for a moment.

"Yeah... So start talking," he smirked.

"I never agreed to that."

He caught her eye.

"I know."

They stood gazing at each other for a moment or two, before Rose edged her way close enough to him to take his hand and look at it. Examining it. As if _she_ were _his_ Doctor. Sometimes, she really amazed him.

"You waiting for it to grow a sixth finger, or something?" he asked after a while of her brushing her fingers delicately over his palm and fingers. She looked up to him and grinned, though she was blushing.

"Nah. Just wanted to check it was okay. Must've had a nasty thump to make that noise."

Oh yes. He'd hit the TARDIS. Idiot. He'd apologise later.

The Doctor winced, part in pain, part in guilt.

"Yeah, sorry about that. I was trying to squash a fly."

Rose dropped his hand and threw her head backwards in a huge laugh.

"What do you take me for, Doctor?" she giggled. "You're a worse liar than I am."

"All right, you got me," he replied, rolling his eyes, as if he'd had no idea that he might get caught. But it had been a pretty pathetic lie.

"So..." she said carefully, looking up to him with a look that could be taken as flirtatious if that atmosphere was right. Which it wasn't, the Doctor told himself. Really really... wasn't. "Why _did_ you hit the TARDIS?"

"No reason," he shrugged, going over the controls by the console. If he could distract himself, seem disinterested, perhaps she would go away. He didn't want her to go away, but he wanted this conversation even less.

Though neither of them knew it, his reason for hitting the TARDIS was probably very similar to the reason for Rose's crying. But they both had their ideas, and they were both way off the mark.

"I'll understand," Rose offered tentatively, shifting her weight to one foot like a naughty child who had been found scoffing sweets just before dinnertime.

"Understand what?" the Doctor asked, not looking up. He'd found a lever that was particularly interesting, and he was going to stand here, with his hands on it, until he was given a reason to do otherwise.

"If you're angry, or whatever. I wasn't exactly friendly before."

And there was the reason.

The Doctor looked up at her quickly, his eyes wide.

"You thought I was angry with you?"

"Well..." She met his eye contact. "Yeah."

He shook his head and suppressed a laugh.

"You amaze me sometimes, you do. All this empathy which I know you have, yet you still seem to think I'm angry because of you."

"So you _were_ angry?" Rose asked, ignoring the compliment.

"No," he adapted quickly. It wasn't a lie, as such. "No, I wasn't. But - Well, Rose, it's just, I could never be angry with you."

"Yeah you could."

He registered the hurt in her voice and his head snapped, instantly alert, his eyes searching hers for an answer. "What?" he demanded.

She bit her lip before she continued. Obviously, whatever she had been hiding from him in her bedroom, she was letting a little of that out now.

"I know it was a while ago, but... When I went back to see my Dad. When I saved him and caused that time paradox thing... You left."

"Oh," he said in a small voice. It was true. It was so very true. Yes, he _had_ left, but he had also been hurt by what she had said at the time. An argument. A stupid, pointless argument that had gotten out of control. An argument that he thought he had been resolved when she'd apologised, and he'd accepted, and he'd given the TARDIS key back. But of course it hadn't. Nothing was ever so simple. And right now, right when she'd said those words to him, he felt like shit. Mostly because she was right.

"I was... I couldn't... I didn't mean it," he offered weakly. But that was just the thing. At the time, he had. He had actually been on the brink of leaving her. Only for a second, maybe, just to make her scared enough to think it was possible, that he might. But it had worked. Perfectly. Because now she _was_ scared that he would leave her, and he couldn't forgive himself.

"It was stupid." He caught her eye and, though she was smiling, he could almost see the struggle she was having in fighting back the tears. "There's nothing I can say to make up for it, is there?"

Rose shook her head, but it was more to shake herself off than to answer his question.

"Doesn't matter," she answered quietly. "I jus' thought you should know."

He wished he didn't. He wished, for once, that she'd kept it to herself. Because now he had a reason to hate himself, and it wasn't like he needed any more of those. But a wish was just a dream that couldn't happen.

He gave a small nod and, though he knew it wouldn't help in the slightest, he held his arms open for her. The decision was hers.

She didn't need a second. She walked over and was happy to be enfolded in them in a quick swoop, was happy to have him bury his head in her mass of blonde hair, was happy to have him hold her so closely to him that she could both hear and feel his breath.

"I will never, ever leave you, Rose Tyler," he said before he could stop himself. The words were tumbling out of his mouth like a waterfall, even though he knew he was saying things he shouldn't be saying. "I know you thought I would. But I couldn't. I couldn't do that to you, or to me. And I promise on every star in the Universe, on the life of every man, woman and child on your planet, that nothing will ever make me change my mind. Ever."

He pulled back and stared into her eyes, and his hearts leaped to see something reflected back in them. She wasn't hollow anymore. He'd fixed her. She was actually smiling, gently and softly. But it was all for him.

"You hear me?" he added, just for effect. "I'm never leaving. I'll be right here. Even when you think I'm gone, I'll always be with you."

Perhaps she would burst into tears. Perhaps she would beam, and give him that affectionate shove he was so used to. Perhaps she would burst out laughing and call him a weirdo. Perhaps she would admit that she was completely and utterly in love with him (not that he wanted or expected _that_).

Or perhaps she would reach a hand to his face, cupping it gently, look him right in the eye and say in the most sincere voice he had ever heard, "I hear you, Doctor. And you need to know too - I ain't ever leaving. Not you, not this TARDIS, not the aliens." She reached down to his hand and linked their fingers, though she never took her eyes of him. He didn't take his off her, either. "Never."

**--------- **

**We're just who we are, there's no pretending;**

**It takes a while to learn to live in your own skin.**

**--------- ****  
**

After that, the two spent the next few hours talking. About anything. Everything. They'd spoken before, of course, of the past and the future. But it had always been snatched conversation, or awkward, or something had gotten in the way. But this time around, they didn't stop.

The Doctor listened as Rose opened up about her childhood, which she had always thought of as normal, but everyone else had called lonely. How her family had never really had enough money. How her mother had always just 'got by'. Nothing more. About a prank one of her best friends in primary school had pulled when she was ten, resulting in some deep-seated fear to do with spiders. About boyfriends who'd come and gone - though, for his peace of mind at least - she left out the details. A fleeting name was all it took. How crushed she'd felt with her GCSE results, knowing that she could have worked harder but never really bothering because she couldn't see a point.

Rose had lain on the floor while she had spoken - most uncomfortable, considering the metal grille was beneath her. But she'd lain there, looking at the ceiling and talking, with the Doctor sitting across from her, his back against the wall of the room, watching her intently. All he could find himself thinking was how Goddamn beautiful she was. And about how much she had missed as a child. Not having a father had really had an effect on her, and he began to understand a little further as to why she'd wanted to save him when it came to it. At that point, he had told her that none of it was her fault, whether it be the regrets in her life or her regrets in the TARDIS. She was a better woman because of it.

There had been silence for a while after that, each thinking about what Rose had said. They hadn't planned for a talk like this. It just sort of... happened. It had started out as a chat but had ended up being more and more in depth. Before either of them knew it, they were both in too deep for their own good.

Rose had been surprised when the Doctor had offered some bits and pieces from his own past. Touched, too. She knew how difficult it was for him to talk about anything much. Anything of his past, of Gallifrey, of the other Time Lords, of his past adventures. He didn't tell her much, of course. There was too much for his own mind that he needed to keep safe. But he told her about how he could cheat death by regenerating - that had taken some time - and that in the past 900 years of his life he was on his Ninth life. Rose had made some comment about one regeneration for every hundred years, but he was convinced that that wasn't it at all. It was just coincidence. Then he'd explained that, in his past lives, he had had other companions. Rose was naturally a little put out that she wasn't as special as she'd thought she was, but he had edged closer to her, reached to take her hand in his, and told her out right that she was more important and more special than any or all of them put together. That he could have done it all without them, but, without her, he would be an empty, lonely shell and probably be dead. She had almost cried at that.

The Doctor told her nothing of his feelings - not really - or the Time War, or much about his home planet. But she had understood instantly and had voiced the reason he was feeling.

"You're just not ready," she had said with a smile. An understanding smile. She understood. That, in itself, was amazing. And for once, in quite a long time, he felt entirely comfortable with being himself. He finally felt like this regeneration wasn't such an outcast after all.

**--------- **

**Say a prayer that we might find our happy ending.**

**And if you're in you know I'm in; I'm ready and I'm willing.**

**--------- ****  
**

It was about then that Jack had wandered in and found them huddled together on the floor. He quirked an amused eyebrow and coughed loudly, causing the pair to jump and turn, embarrassed. They each looked at him as if he had no right to interrupt them. He knew that he didn't, but it was just too much fun.

"It's all right, don't get up," he said sarcastically, slouching against the wall. The Doctor scowled up at him.

"Is there something you want?" he asked almost bitterly.

"Be nice," Rose teased from his side. He gave her an inquiring look, but there was a grin hidden in his eyes.

"I was just wondering what was keeping you two love birds so busy," Jack said audaciously, everything implied. "Heaven knows I've been as bored as dirt for the past three hours. Wondered what you were getting up to."

He had the gall to wink. And the Doctor, Rose noticed, actually blushed. She giggled.

"Three hours?" she asked, with forced wonder, after she had sobered.

"That's what I said," Jack nodded, folding his arms.

The Doctor got to his feet reluctantly. He had been perfectly content until this Captain had shown up. Mind you, the Doctor wasn't too angry for it - there was the smallest element of truth in what Jack had been hinting at, and the Doctor was glad for an excuse to leave it be. Let sleeping dogs lie and all that.

"So, Jacky-boy, what did you want?" the Doctor asked brightly, looking to his second companion. Jack grinned.

"Apart from to interrupt your... whatever it was you were doing - and, please, no details. My innocent mind couldn't take it - I was just here to tell you I was off to bed. I'm totally knackered after waiting in vain for a certain, blonde-haired, gorgeous lady to make her way to my room." He flashed Rose a wink and a view of his teeth.

Yeah, right, she thought. He'd just wanted an excuse to crash her and the Doctor's party. But it was definitely worth it to see the Doctor's reaction. He became quite flustered.

"All right, out," he practically ordered, giving Jack a shove back towards the door.

"Easy, Doc," Jack laughed, giving him what was supposed to be a small shove but ending up knocking him a few feet. "Didn't know you were into that kind of thing. I'll remember it for next time I make a late night – "

"Out!" the Doctor practically shouted. Rose hid a smile behind her hand, but couldn't hold in the laugh that burst out of her after Jack had left. The Doctor put his hands on his hips and rolled his eyes.

"What am I going to do with him? He's a bad influence, he is."

"I think he's sweet," Rose giggled, getting up and peering down the now empty corridor.

The Doctor gave her an incredulous look.

"You would, wouldn't you?" he said, though his voice was laced with affection. "See? Bad influence!"

"Not jealous, are you Doctor?"

"Not in the slightest," he replied, a little too quickly. Rose laughed, again. He loved her laugh. It was so light, and pure, and innocent. It was the innocence he loved most. She brought it into everything she did and, very slowly, it was beginning to rub off on him and he was beginning to see everything in a new light. An innocent light. It was rather surreal.

Rose looked at her Doctor softly in the artificial light of the console room. He gave her a slight smile back, watching her watch him.

"What is it?" he asked gently.

She gave a little sigh before replying. "We're all right, aren't we?"

"Yeah. We're perfect."

Her eyes glittered like diamonds. He loved those eyes, too. Whatever it was she had been upset about, he knew that it didn't touch her now. He could take her away from all of the hurt and pain and he knew, somehow, that he would be doing just that for the rest of his life. "Just perfect."

**--------- **

**I am.**

**When you think that no one needs you, sees you or believes you;**

**No one's there to understand.**

**I am.**

**--------- ****  
**

She didn't know why, or how, but they were dancing. Maybe she was dreaming or maybe she'd just been too caught up in the moment. She didn't know, but she didn't care. Hands linked, bodies swaying together in their own little ritual, that Godawful music playing out of the TARDIS' speakers. At least, Rose assumed they were speakers. She couldn't rightly see any, but there was definitely music. Slow music, easy to sway to, easy to be with, easy to fall into. Like love. Like her Doctor. She rested her head against his chest as they swayed.

_Please don't let it be a dream_.

"Rose?"

She lifted her head, her eyes gazing into his.

_Those beautiful eyes. I love those eyes._

"What is it, Doctor?"

A pause.

"Promise me we'll always be like this. Just like this. Always."

_I promise that and more. I promise to love you forever. I promise I'll never leave you. I need you. I love you. I understand._

Smiling, she laid her head on his chest again as the music practically danced around them.

"I promise."

She felt his muscles tighten as he held her close.

**--------- **

**I'll be there to be that someone,**

**When you think that no one is there to hold your hand.**

**I am.**

**--------- ****  
**

Look at that. They were dancing. He wasn't sure how. He'd heard the music in his head, perhaps even before the TARDIS had started playing it out loud. He'd offered his hand and Rose had taken it instantly. He had only danced with her the once, after they came back from World War London. With Jack. There was always someone else. But he didn't care. He could dance. And right now, there was nothing else he wanted to do.

They moved with each other like it was the only thing they were born to do. Slowly and beautifully, he knew, there was nowhere else he'd rather be. No one else he'd rather be with. Nothing else he'd rather be doing. And she thought he hated dancing. She thought a lot of things about him that weren't true. He had loved their talk, though; he'd learned a lot about her and maybe in the future, he wouldn't be so quick to judge. But he didn't want anything to change. He didn't want anything or anybody to get in the way of what he had with her. She was too special to let just anybody near her. All his. His own little Rose, who he could and would cherish for the rest of his life.

He felt her relax completely against him, felt her head on his chest. Over his hearts.

_God, I love you_.

"Rose?" he felt himself asking. What was he thinking? Was he a complete idiot?

She looked up at him with patient, adoring eyes.

_I love you_.

"What is it, Doctor?"

_I love you so much. Never leave me. Never ever. I want you always._

"Promise me we'll always be like this," he felt himself saying instead. Just as well. She could never know. Then, quieter, "Just like this. Always."

_Promise, Rose. Please. Promise that you'll let me love you like this forever._

She gave a small, happy sigh and lowered her head to his chest again.

"I promise," he heard. And he tightened his grip around her.

**--------- **

**I ain't got no halo hanging over my head;**

**--------- ****  
**

He could have stayed like that all night. All day. Every day. Always, just like she'd promised. But he wasn't stupid. He knew that everything had its time; everything dies. He knew he couldn't give her what she needed. That he was a fleeting moment in her life. A momentous and meaningful moment, maybe. But he would never be more than that. Not to her. He could die tomorrow and that would be it. Or so could she. It scared him to think about how he might lose her. He wouldn't be able to stand it. It would destroy him. He just wasn't that strong.

"You know what, Doctor?" her voice asked through the gathering thoughts in his head. The music was drawing to a close.

He looked down at her in his arms. So patient. So loving. His. All his.

_For now_.

"What?" he asked with a grin. A lying grin; a grin he didn't feel.

"If it weren't for you, I'd still be sat back home bored out of my skull."

"Lucky for you I came along, then," he replied, giving her a quick twirl. He didn't want to let her out of his arms. But she was soon back in them again, and he was surprised by how much he missed her warmth. Just in those few seconds.

She looked up to him coyly.

"Sure you weren't just watchin' over me?" she questioned with a grin. "My guardian angel?"

He looked down into her eyes. It was lucky his feet knew what they were doing, because he'd stopped concentrating on them a long while ago. Quite seriously, he replied, "I'm no angel, Rose."

"You're right," Rose agreed after a while. Then, slowly, she slid her arms up his chest and linked them behind his neck. Holding them yet closer. While they danced. Then slowly, cautiously, she added; "You're better."

**--------- **

**I ain't gonna judge you; I'm just here to love you.**

**--------- ****  
**

That was it. She'd as good as told him. The rest was up to him. She'd laughed, she'd cried, and she'd talked. Shared practically everything. And then they'd been interrupted, which was all right, because she didn't mind not having to spill everything about her life to the Doctor. At least, not all in one night. And now they were dancing. And she had just as good as told him exactly how she felt.

She didn't care whether he felt the same way or not. It went beyond caring. Rose knew that, in some way, the Doctor _did_ love her. You couldn't travel around the universe with someone, fight the good fight, live through the bad, admire the good, see the impossible and not end up loving them. It just wasn't possible. So that, in itself, was a comfort. And she didn't even mind if he wasn't _in_ love with her. By the sound of it, he'd never really done the relationship thing in the past. Not really. Why should she be any different? He was the one who was amazing, not her. All she was trying to do was tell him so.

So it came as quite a shock when he stopped dancing and moved his head so that he was staring directly into her. It was as if he were looking directly into her soul through her eyes. His blue pools of sea were raging again now, but with intensity and heat. An uncontrollable element that she hadn't seen in him before.

"You can't mean that," he said quite sternly. It was more of an order than a question. "You just can't."

But she felt the hands around her waist tighten.

**--------- **

**I am. I am.**

**--------- ****  
**

The Doctor had heard the words. Of course he had. He? Better than an angel? That could only mean one thing. A very dangerous, stupid thing. He was supposed to be the stupid one here, not Rose. She was supposed to be sensible and fine. Not stupid.

He'd stopped their dancing and, somehow, pulled her closer to him. But to tell her something. To tell her what she needed to hear. To tell her that this wasn't the way. That he wasn't right for her. That he didn't feel the same way - even if that was a lie. That there was no way in heaven, hell or earth that he would ever let anything happen between them. For the pure reason that it would hurt too much when they stopped.

So he had. He'd told her. He said that she couldn't mean it. Which was true. And what had she done next? Looked him straight back in the eye and told him otherwise.

"But I do."

He was helpless.

**--------- **

**I am.**

**When you think that no one needs you, sees you or believes you.**

**No one's there to understand.**

**I am.**

**--------- ****  
**

"You can't," he said again. It was worth another shot. It was worth a thousand more. Anything to keep her from making the biggest mistake of her life.

The music had long stopped, but he still clasped her to him. Then, he quietly lowered his voice and admitted what he had been really running from. "_I_ can't."

Rose frowned, but an understanding frown. A light frown. A _loving_ frown, for crying out loud. She was too good for him. Far too good. And he would only cause her grief. That's all he ever did.

"You think I don't get it," she said softly after a while, her eyes always on his. Her arms still behind his head. The warmth of her body against his. He didn't know what to say, so he let her continue. "You think I can't see inside that complicated head of yours. But I do, Doctor. And the more I see the more I know I never wanna leave. Never want to be anywhere else. With anyone else. You think I don't understand that we're different and that there's no way anything can ever happen between us."

She pulled herself closer to him, leaning against him, her forehead touching his lips. He didn't move. So she closed her eyes and kept talking.

"But what if there was a way? All you gotta do is say the word. Take a risk. Jump."

Then, she pulled back slightly to look at him again. His eyes seemed worried. Confused. Distant.

"Doctor," she said softly. He didn't look at her. Well, he did, but he was more looking _through_ her than at her. His eyes were void and hollow. Empty.

"Doctor," she repeated more sternly, a frown creasing her forehead. His hands were still on her waist. Her voice became quiet and worried, like a scared little child who can't find her mummy. "Doctor?"

**--------- **

**I'll be there to be that someone.**

**When you think that no one is there to hold your hand,**

**I am.**

**--------- ****  
**

She had him at, 'never want to be anywhere else'. She'd said it before. Not a day went by that she didn't say it, it seemed. But the impact caught him full on this time, and he had to cut himself off. From everything. He could feel her in his arms. He could feel her skin on his. He could hear her words. A lullaby of soft sounds to lull him to sleep. But he stopped reacting. Stopped talking. It was the only way he could keep her from him. It was the last shot. If she broke though this, he knew, he would have no more strength to fight back. The desire to give up and let her throw it all away was almost overpowering. But he held on. For her. She had no idea of the consequences of loving a Time Lord. Natural loners by nature, usually. Or at least, he was. He didn't have anyone. Had chosen to have no one. Didn't deserve a second chance. Least of all in the form of Rose. His Rose.

He couldn't let her get to him like that. Part of him was scared. Terrified. He didn't want to take that risk. He didn't want to give the word. He didn't want to jump. But he was mostly scared because of _how much_ he wanted to do just that, all of it. Show her a world that was beyond stars and planets, suns and moons. Show her what the true essence of Gallifrey meant, for it still burned deeply within him. Show her how important having in his life was. He wanted to give her the world. But he knew he couldn't. Shouldn't. It was just too stupid.

He let his arms drop from her waist. She had moved out of his grip. Worried, probably. But at least he'd saved her from a fate worse than death. A fate worse than dying.

He blinked at her, feeling quite the idiot. He'd led her on, he knew it. Led her to believe that she could have something she couldn't. Something that she had never ever had. And he'd probably hurt her in the meantime. She'd probably rush back to her room in floods of tears.

But instead, she took his hand. Reached down and intertwined his large, bony fingers with her own delicate ones. He stared. From the hands, to her. Right at her. She was smiling, but on the inside.

Slowly, with her other hand, she reached out to touch his temple lightly with her fingers. At least one of his hearts began to race.

"I can be that someone, Doctor," she said quietly at last. "If you'll let me."

God, he wanted her. He wanted to let her so much. Oh sod it, let them try. It was worth a shot. Let them be together, let them be stupid enough to make love and end the universe. Let them give in. Let them work. Let her into his mind, his body, his soul and his being. He wanted to let her. Could have let her. Should have let her. Would let her.

His blue eyes pierced hers in an icy stare. An intense stare of passion. Feeling. Emotion. All right. He gave up. She had him.

Rose moved to her Doctor in an instinct. Her body was close to his. She looked up into his face and saw that he was silently giving her the order. Silently telling her that it was okay. That he would always be there. That he loved her. That he was _in_ love with her. All in a look.

Slowly, carefully, she craned her lips towards his. Her hand brushed his torso and he quivered beneath her touch. He began to bend his head towards hers, began to reach for her so he could pull her close and never ever let her go.

And then his body did a very stupid but very clever thing. It took over. And the Doctor tilted his head and, just like he had done before, kissed Rose softly in the forehead between the eyes. The only place he knew would ever kiss her.

**--------- **

**I am.**

**--------- ****  
**

Her body paused in his arms. She stopped. Her eyes flickered open and met his with confusion and unease. He could read the question on her face before she asked it. She didn't need to ask it. It was over.

The Doctor took in a breath and smiled at her weakly. It wouldn't do, he knew. Wouldn't suffice. He hadn't even given her an explanation. But she already knew. Had always known. And so had he.

He turned and made his way towards the door of the TARDIS to the corridor. Anywhere that was away from Rose. He couldn't look at her now. He couldn't stand to look at himself. It was over. He'd finished it before it had even begun.

**--------- **

**I am.**

**--------- ****  
**

Rose couldn't believe it. He'd said no. He'd wanted to, she had felt it. She had seen it. He loved her. He was _in_ love with her, and knew he knew she felt the same way. But he had still said no. He had left her, alone in the console room, feeling embarrassed and stupid and an idiot. And he didn't even explain why. But she already knew why. His reasons. His own, stupid, cocky, arrogant reasons. Probably something to do with being The Lord of Time, or The Doctor, or The Last Timelord, or some other stupid title that he could hide behind. Perhaps he was afraid. Afraid of what he felt. Afraid of _how_ he could feel these things for someone who was so entirely different from him.

She lay in her bed and cried. Tears of anger and sadness that he had been too foolish or too stupid to take the risk they both deserved. He hadn't been responsible. He had just been stupid. She cried and cried and this time, he did not come to comfort her. It was over.

**--------- **

**I am.**

**--------- ****  
**

They were all right. They went back to hiding behind their affectionate words and lively grins. They went back to enjoying each other's company. They went back to themselves, back to being the best of friends. Inseparable. But they never went back to each other. And they never would.

**_End_**

**_---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- _**

_If you've actually managed to get to the end of the page, then you deserve a medal. Thanks for reading, and I hope it wasn't something you'll wish you hadn't wasted your time on :D If you'd be so kind, would you mind hitting the review button? This is my first songifc - some advice would be appreciated and welcomed :)  
_


End file.
